to men or to the Almighty."

"That I believe. Pride will build up in thee a strength which will be
like water in the end. Oh, my lord," she added, with a sudden change in
her voice and manner, "if thee could only be true--thee who never has
been true to any one!"

"Why does a woman always judge a man after her own personal experience
with him, or what she thinks is her own personal experience?"

A robin hopped upon the path before her. She watched it for a moment
intently, then lifted her head as the sound of a bell came through the
wood to her. She looked up at the sun, which was slanting towards
evening. She seemed about to speak, but with second thought, moved on
slowly past the mill and towards the Meeting-house. He stepped on beside
her. She kept her eyes fixed in front of her, as though oblivious of his
presence.

"You shall hear me speak. You shall listen to what I have to say, though
it is for the last time," he urged stubbornly. "You think ill of me.
Are you sure you are not pharisaical?"

"I am honest enough to say that which hurts me in the saying. I do not
forget that to believe thee what I think is to take all truth from what
thee said to me last year, and again this spring when the tulips first
came and there was good news from Egypt."

"I said," he rejoined boldly, "that I was happier with you than with any
one else alive. I said that what you thought of me meant more to me than
what any one else in the world thought; and that I say now, and will